


paint your eyes a shade of crowing navy

by akajung



Series: i want to be less lonely [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Drunken Confessions, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-19 09:55:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11310957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akajung/pseuds/akajung
Summary: Taeyong is seriously just too pretty to handle; the abundance of feelings that comes with knowing him is also pretty hard to handle.





	paint your eyes a shade of crowing navy

**Author's Note:**

> Friendly reminder: I know literally nothing about college but somehow that didn't stop me from producing this garbage (series).
> 
> Update: Donghyuck really just shows up in person like once here. So if you really like him and won't settle for anything else but him all over the place in this fic, well, you're in for a huge disappointment!
> 
> 06/06/2018: just looked back into this and fixed all the grammatical mistakes i hate the me from 1 year ago like for why

Like how most people would feel when they meet Lee Taeyong for the first time, Jaehyun too, was promptly smitten. Firstly, by his looks. Secondly, by his smile. Thirdly, by the way his hand felt against his. He would continue to list off Taeyong’s good features if they weren’t in the middle of introducing themselves to each other, and Jaehyun really needed to focus so he could actually remember his name.

“Hey, kid,” Youngho’s voice half-startled him, his hand suddenly behind Jaehyun’s back. He was grinning, all wide and toothy and frankly quite annoying. He was wearing that please-punch-me look on his face. “Stop ogling at my roommate. I know he’s pretty, but don’t embarrass yourself.”

“I wasn’t ogling,” Jaehyun quickly retaliated, but even he knew that was weak. “Do _you_ think I was ogling at you?” he turned and asked Taeyong, whose lips proceeded to form the sweetest smile Jaehyun had ever seen. He looked pleased that Jaehyun had actually ogled at him, if anything. His left hand rose to brush a stray strand of ash-pink hair off his eyebrows, and god, the gesture was so cute, so _elusive_.

_Breathe air, Jung Jaehyun, you still need to live, you have a presentation to do on Friday._

“Mm, I’m used to it,” Taeyong said, shrugging his skinny shoulders. He still hadn’t let go of Jaehyun’s hand, and Jaehyun didn’t mind, not at all. Taeyong’s hand felt really nice and kind; he could hold Jaehyun’s hand for all eternity if he wanted. “Jaehyun, right? Youngho talks about you so much, you’re pretty much my best friend now.”

“You mean he talks shit about me a lot,” Jaehyun corrected, while the accused standing next to him just grinned even wider, not denying anything.

Taeyong cackled, his laugh reedy and elated and genuine, somewhat mismatched with his delicate features. Jaehyun stared again, but that was really just because Taeyong looked so good when he laughed. His teeth were so _straight_ (Jaehyun wished he could have said the same thing about himself).

“I won’t spill any beans but he did call you an unfeeling asshole a couple of times,” Taeyong said. Jaehyun figured he now had to let go of Taeyong’s hand, or else he would just look creepy. “A couple times, as in a couple times per day, I think.”

Jaehyun staged a gasp. “That’s it, Youngho, you’re on your own for this,” he said, and he pretended to turn around and make way for the door, but Youngho grabbed his wrist.

“Jung Jaehyun, you _know_ better than anyone else that you are an actual unfeeling asshole! Sit the fuck down, I’m not letting you leave until I’m positive I will get an A for this shit.”

“Yeah, you better tutor him good or else he won’t pass the finals this month,” Taeyong said.

“I’m not that stupid, and Jaehyun isn’t here to tutor me,” Youngho said, as he shooed Taeyong away with his hand. “We’re here to work. Go away now, don’t you have your own papers to do?”

“I do,” Taeyong said, smiling at Jaehyun once again, which almost made Jaehyun’s heart stop. Almost. “But do tell me if you guys want to eat out for dinner. Our fridge is empty because Youngho is an idiot who never bothers to buy groceries.”

“I will leave you here to starve,” Youngho threatened. His hand landed on the back of Taeyong’s neck to turn his body around, while Taeyong just chuckled. Jaehyun couldn’t help but to think Taeyong looked like a kitten, being moved around by the neck like that. “Off you go, back to being the honor student that you are.”

“True. If I’m seen hanging around you lot it will tarnish my reputation,” Taeyong said, although there was no bite in his tone. Jaehyun was rather flattered instead of offended, actually. He wouldn’t mind tarnishing Taeyong’s reputation any time of the day. Or his sheets. Whichever comes first.

After that Jaehyun didn’t know whether to be disappointed or not, because for the rest of the time he spent there working, Taeyong didn’t leave his room – not even once to drink or go to the bathroom. Which meant he could actually concentrate on making a precise PowerPoint with Youngho looking over his shoulder every few minutes. He was busy pointing out misspelled words, which was strangely more frequent than usual.

“Dude, I’m pretty sure _obnoxious_ has one x, not two. What the hell is wrong with you?”

Jaehyun scrambled, collecting his scattered thoughts and checked the slide.

“Mistyped, was going to fix it—“

“Bullshit, the x’s were on both ends for like, full five minutes. You legit typed _obxnoxious_. Just like how _obxnoxious_ your infatuated ass is.”

“What are you talking about?” Jaehyun said, but the tip of his ears were getting hot and he quickly fixed the word. “There. Obnoxious, just like your entire being.”

What was that about concentration? Jaehyun took that back. He couldn’t focus, after all.

“What did he mean, though?” Jaehyun said, moments later, after he’d closed his laptop and Youngho had clipped all of their printed papers together. The taller man looked up from their assignments. “Taeyong said he’s used to people ogling at him. What did he mean by that?”

“I don’t know, he was already weird like that when I found him,” Youngho said, his face telling Jaehyun he couldn’t care any less. “But think about it. When you’re as attractive as he is, wouldn’t you get used to people staring at you all the time? I mean, hot damn, son.”

“Would you please speak proper English,” Jaehyun said, hitting Youngho’s arm lightly with the back of his hand. “But even if they’re used to being stared at just because their looks are above average, that could just mean they’re arrogant, you know? Not that I’m saying Taeyong is conceited just because he said he’s used to being ogled at.”

Youngho pondered over this for awhile, so Jaehyun thought he was going to say something intelligent. Or at least inoffensive. Nope – with a popping ‘p’.

“So you _were_ ogling at him,” Youngho said, the shit-eating grin back on his face. The oh-so-familiar feeling of wanting to punch his face suddenly surged back inside of Jaehyun’s stomach.

“Was not,” Jaehyun replied, calm, but definitely holding back a wince.

“Totally were.”

“Has someone ever stuffed your mouth full of book?”

“I’d rather have something sexier than a book in my mouth, if you catch my drift.”

“Yeah, like Taeil’s dick,” Jaehyun deadpanned, but Youngho didn’t seem to hear, or at least he pretended not to. He probably thought that by keeping his mouth shut he would assure Jaehyun that he wasn’t as into Taeil as Jaehyun made him out to be, but Jaehyun knew way better. He caught them sucking face a few days ago in the library. The fucking library, of all places.

(“You could’ve taken him to your room,” Jaehyun had yelled at him. “Some of us actually study here!” He hadn’t know that Youngho’s roommate was Taeyong at that time, but looking back at it now, he was super glad Youngho didn’t. He didn’t even want to imagine Taeyong walking in on his roommate’s making out session with one of his ‘honor college student’ friends.)

“So would you take me out for dinner?” Youngho said. “Or, I correct myself, would you take Taeyong out for dinner, me included?”

“Sorry, I have club after this,” Jaehyun said, frowning. He did want to eat with Youngho (and Taeyong), but Ten had drilled it into him just yesterday that if Jaehyun skipped one more practice, his club privileges would be stripped right off along with his skin. Club privileges included curfew extension by three hours and clean showers, and Jaehyun would prefer to keep his skin attached to his flesh, so he couldn’t risk it. “Ten will kill me if I don’t show up. Have you seen his fucking nails? Make me wonder just how he can play with claws like those.”

“You just busted your chance of getting to know cherry boy over there, but why do I care?” Youngho said, but he was smiling, and Jaehyun too, was grinning without realizing it. They bumped their fists together. “’S okay, man, see you next time.”

 

 

The week passed by slowly and quietly, and Jaehyun was able to function without too much of a hassle. On a dreaded Friday, he presented their project in front of their Creative Writing class. Thanks to Youngho’s furious editing the night before, the PowerPoint was flawless, free of any misspells, but at the end of the hour Youngho had already started telling Jaehyun that he’d seen no point whatsoever of joining this class when he was majoring in International Studies. This would actually mean something if Youngho hadn’t been saying it since their classes started a few months back.

“Stop complaining for a sec, it wouldn’t hurt to know how to actually write,” Jaehyun hummed, when Youngho wouldn’t stop tapping the end of his pen on the edge of his table. “Also, how could you say this class is pointless? You read Shakespeare at lunch. Even I don’t do that.”

“You should start then,” Youngho suggested, suddenly enthusiastic. Jaehyun wondered how someone like Seo Youngho, 184 centimeters tall, with looks and dictions that could persuade even the coldest of professors, read fucking Shakespeare in his spare time. It was something like a gap moe, except that Youngho wasn’t exactly what Jaehyun would call _moe_. Just straight up weird.

“I could lend you Hamlet. Perfect for your severe case of teenage angst.”

“I don’t have any case of teenage angst, I’m not interested,” Jaehyun said. “Not unless my professor explicitly tells me to read that shit, which I doubt will happen anytime soon.”

“You can’t be a Lit major and not read Shakespeare!” Youngho protested, aghast, like it was sin for someone to dislike Shakespeare and Wilde and whatever ancient being else that Youngho had a crush on.

“I’ll be the first, don’t worry.”

The cafeteria was filled with equally hungry and tired students, which was common at this hour. Jaehyun, with Youngho in tow, still grumbling, struggled to find an empty table. He was going to give up and just skip lunch entirely when he heard his name being called from the furthest table on the row to his left.

He lifted his gaze up to catch a familiar color of pink. A long, lean arm stretched to wave at him, and his mouth ran dry. _Lee_ _Taeyong_ was calling out to him, and here he thought he wouldn’t see him again for the rest of the week (or month, considering Jaehyun’s bad luck). His mood suddenly went up.

(He’d thought about crashing at Youngho’s place once just to see the pink-haired man a little more, but 1) That would be disturbing since he’d just met him yesterday, 2) He didn’t want to see the smug grin on Youngho’s face.)

“Oh, it’s TY,” Youngho noted, his eyes lit up when he heard his roommate’s voice. “I don’t usually do this, but let’s sit with him.”

“Well, there’s no empty table anywhere anyway,” Jaehyun said, trying to make himself sound as nonchalant as possible.

They moved past people to sit down at Taeyong’s table. He grinned when his eyes caught Jaehyun’s, and Jaehyun wanted to beat himself up because he had forgotten just how good-looking Taeyong was up close. It had just been two fucking days, goddamnit, Jung Jaehyun really needed to get his shit together. He sat next to Taeyong, because Youngho had already taken the seat next to the guy he didn’t know.

This guy had black hair with purplish shades, and Jaehyun wondered if Taeyong had his own circle of friends which included people who dyed their hair in odd colors. Not that Jaehyun was saying the purple-haired boy was unattractive; he was cute, really, with wide eyes and a thin-lipped smile. He kind of reminded him of a bunny somehow, it was uncanny.

“How are you?” Taeyong asked him, his dark eyes twinkling with something like humor. He nodded his head at the purple-haired boy. “This is Dongyoung. We used to be roommates before Youngho came and I decided he was better at mopping the floor.”

Youngho grunted from the other side of the table, murmuring, “Yeah, right, thanks I guess.”

“I told you to call me Doyoung,” the boy said, annoyed. He turned to look at Jaehyun, eyes softening. “Hey. The name’s Doyoung,” he repeated, as if Jaehyun hadn’t heard him speak to Taeyong just a second ago.

“Fine. Dongyoung, Doyoung, Nakamoto, whatever yanks your crank,” Taeyong says, rolling his eyes. Jaehyun’s ears perked up, because Nakamoto was a name he was unfortunately familiar with.

“Nakamoto? As in Nakamoto Yuta? The soccer guy?” Jaehyun asked, both of his eyebrows raised.

It wasn’t as if Yuta was rarely mentioned by anyone. The dude was popular, yes, but he sure didn’t expect someone like Dongyoung – Doyoung, whatever – to talk about him like he knew him on a whole new personal level. Well, technically it was Taeyong who spoke about Yuta like he knew him on a whole new personal level, not Doyoung, but judging from the way Doyoung reacted, Jaehyun guessed it didn’t really matter either way.

Taeyong’s gaze shifted back to him. “Oh, you know him?”

“Who doesn’t?” Jaehyun retorted, grinning. Taeyong hummed in agreement.

“Let’s not start,” Doyoung said, heaving a sigh and crossing his arms. “Don’t even say his name. We’re sworn enemies.”

“When you’re not busy checking out his ass sure you are,” Youngho said in between munches of sandwich.

Jaehyun scrunched his nose, distracted from the conversation for a second. The cafeteria sandwiches were always so awful but Youngho somehow liked them. Taeyong too, was making the same expression as he was, because he soon said, “How can you eat that shit?”

“What? It’s good.”

“Uh, full offense, Youngho, but no,” Jaehyun said.

Taeyong pointed his thumb at Jaehyun. “See, I’m not the only one who thinks the sandwiches they serve here taste like crap. Dimpled boy over there’s with me.”

“Dimpled boy over there doesn’t read Shakespeare, I don’t associate with him no more,” Youngho said, pointing at Jaehyun with his middle finger. Childish, really. “He’s no longer my friend.”

“Have fun going to class alone, asshole,” Jaehyun glared at him, and Youngho straightened himself up, ready for a fight, but then another person dragged a chair between Doyoung and Jaehyun, sat down on it, and their attention was compromised.

“Tell me since when are we sitting together,” Doyoung was the first one to respond, eyes thick with exasperation, while Yuta brushed his hair back and grinned at all of them like they were all good friends. Sure Jaehyun knew him, but he didn’t know Yuta was friends with ones like Taeyong. Or Doyoung, in that particular matter.

“There’s no written rule saying I can’t sit with you losers,” Yuta said, furrowing his brows at Doyoung. “I mean literally nobody protested except for you, but fuck you anyway, right?”

“Are you serious right now?” Doyoung shrieked in disbelief, and Jaehyun noticed he was gripping the edge of the table, like he was about to flip it over and probably bash Yuta’s fucking face in with it. Jaehyun would pay to see that, but he didn’t want to get blood on his jeans.

“Yeah, I’m serious. Come on, Violet, just eat your lunch, don’t bitch too much,” Yuta said, and he turned his attention to Jaehyun, who was watching the both of them in silence amusement. “Hey there. Ten told me you came to practice yesterday. That’s rare.”

Yuta ended this with a shrewd smile, to which Jaehyun paralleled, because Yuta and Jaehyun were something akin to cohorts when it came to skipping basketball practice. Although Yuta was more into soccer, he sometimes dropped by the campus basketball court to humor Ten. He was pretty good, actually, good enough that he had Jaehyun curious if all Japanese transfer students were all good at sports just like Yuta was.

“He threatened me to come, more like,” Jaehyun said. “Something about stripping my skin off? His _nails_ , man.”

Yuta laughed out loud. “That sounds like something he’d do. We should go together tomorrow, I heard there’s a practice match in late July and he said he’ll kill me if we lose.”

“He’ll kill me, too, so I guess yeah, let’s go together.”

“I hope you lose,” Doyoung murmured from under his breath, yet loud enough for Yuta and Jaehyun to hear. Yuta just snorted, amused, while Jaehyun stared at them. There was something in the way Doyoung dissed Yuta, and the way Yuta dissed him back, that Jaehyun had a hard time comprehending. They clearly weren’t friends, like _friends_ friends, but Jaehyun also didn’t believe that they were sworn enemies just like Doyoung had said. They were just… floating in between. Which was strange, since they could’ve steered to either direction if they wanted to.

“Fun to be around, aren’t they?” Taeyong said as Jaehyun watched Doyoung and Yuta bicker. He suddenly noticed that Taeyong had leaned his head a little toward Jaehyun. “Yuta doesn’t usually sit with us at lunch, busy guy, but we share a class. God, I wish either one of them will just drop out. It gets frustrating after awhile.”

“You should try being in the same class as Youngho,” Jaehyun said.

Taeyong cackled. There it was again, his reedy laugh that Jaehyun was beginning to like. Scratch that, he’d already liked it from day one. “I _live_ with him, Jaehyun. I don’t have to share a class too to know how much of pain in the ass he is.”

“I heard that,” Youngho called out from across the table, but he was now occupied with the phone in his hand. There was a funny expression on his face, and Jaehyun asked him if he was texting Taeil. Youngho didn’t answer, but he glanced at the doorway once, so Jaehyun’s suspicion was pretty much confirmed.

A few minutes later, Youngho stood up and grabbed his bag. “I gotta go, I’ve something to do.”

“You mean someone to do,” Jaehyun said, and Youngho made an exaggerated laugh before flipping him off. After he went away, Yuta also stood up and said he had to check on his teammates in the soccer club. This left Jaehyun very much alone with Taeyong and Doyoung, who began conversing with each other lightly about the class they just took. Since Jaehyun had finished his lunch, and Taeyong’s can of Diet Coke had long been empty, they soon stood to leave, too.

“Where are you going after this?” Taeyong asked, after they dropped Doyoung off at the west campus building. Taeyong was fishing a couple of books from his locker, which was horrifically immaculate and organized. (Jaehyun believed Youngho now when he’d once said _my new roommate is a freak_. A neat freak, indeed.) “I have another class at two, so if we part here, we part here I guess.”

But Jaehyun didn’t want to part just yet. He’d somehow ended up alone with Taeyong, an occasion he didn’t expect but appreciated anyway, and he didn’t want it to end so soon. But since Taeyong had class, and he didn’t, he said it honestly, “I don’t have class.”

“So what are you planning to do, then?”

“I would study in the library, but last time I went there Youngho was sucking face with a Psychology student.”

“Oh, you mean Taeil,” Taeyong said, nodding in understanding. “Oh well. I told him not to do anything inappropriate in public, but I guess if Youngho actually listens to you, the world is coming to an end.”

“Glad to find someone who understands,” Jaehyun laughed, and Taeyong laughed with him, which made Jaehyun feel unreasonably happy, no particular reason. Thank you, Youngho and his stupid tendencies to do inappropriate things in public.

“You should sit with us more often,” Taeyong said, as he closed his locker door and tightened his hold on the bag slung over his shoulder. He stared at Jaehyun, all big dark eyes and shapely smiling lips, curving up on the corners. “At lunch, I mean. It’ll be fun with more people. Mostly it’s just me and Doyoung, it’s so quiet.”

“What if I bring Yuta along? Won’t it annoy Doyoung?”

“Absolutely, but by then it won’t be boring anymore,” Taeyong grins at Jaehyun. He then patted Jaehyun’s arm, a soft _tap-tap_ before he turned to leave. “See you tomorrow, dimpled boy.”

On the spot where Taeyong had touched him, Jaehyun felt his skin burning.

Lunch quickly became something that Jaehyun looked forward to everyday, and it was solely because of a certain pink-haired guy. Taeyong had never missed a beat to wave his hand at him when he spotted him in the cafeteria, which made Jaehyun question if the guy stared at the cafeteria door the whole time just to see when Jaehyun would arrive. When he asked Taeyong this, the latter just grinned.

“So what if I do?” he said mischievously. “I have nothing else to stare at but Doyoung’s face here. It gets tiring after a while.”

“Excuse you, I’m right fucking here,” Doyoung huffed.

“But what if I have class and can’t get to lunch?” Jaehyun continued to ask. Just out of curiosity, nothing else. Definitely not wishing Taeyong would be disappointed if he didn’t show up or whatever, nope.

“Then I’d be staring at the door the whole noon for nothing,” Taeyong hummed, and he ran his fingers through his hair. Jaehyun’s eyes followed his every movement. It wasn’t helping that Taeyong’s eyes soon caught his, and they would look at each other with unreadable gaze, air thick with tension, until He Who Can’t Read The Atmosphere Seo Youngho showed up.

“Guys, it’s just lunch, keep the UST down,” Youngho told them off, eyeing Taeyong with mild distaste in his eyes, but he simply looked at Jaehyun with raised brows. Taeyong asked, “What’s UST?” while Doyoung cleared his throat and was just about to say something when another person sat down, again, next to him.

“So are we all really sitting together now?” Yuta asked, eyes twinkling like a child. He’d completely failed to notice Doyoung’s horrorstruck expression next to him, or maybe he just ignored it out of wisdom.

Taeyong leaned back on his chair, grinning. “I guess so,” he said, putting his arms behind his head. “It’s more fun this way.”

“I don’t mind Youngho or Jaehyun, but _you_ are not going to sit here,” Doyoung started, and before Jaehyun knew it his hand was already on Yuta’s arm. “How about you leave and sit with your soccer friends, Nakamoto?”

“Make me, Dongyoung,” Yuta calmly replied, and he turned to blast Doyoung away with his 500 Watt smile. Doyoung’s already thin lips thinned even more, and Jaehyun heard Taeyong snickering, his eyes never leaving his two bickering friends. Despite what he’d said, Taeyong might take more enjoyment in Doyoung and Yuta wrangling each other more than he’d let on.

And it wasn’t even the best part yet, because after they all finished their lunch and done arguing with each other, Taeyong would walk with Jaehyun. Sometimes they would drop Doyoung off to his next class like how they did on their first lunch together. Sometimes when Taeyong didn’t have an impending class, he would walk Jaehyun to his class, or when they both were free, Yuta would invite them to the field, where they sat on metal benches and watched Yuta’s soccer team did warm-ups. Youngho would occasionally tag along when he didn’t leave to meet Taeil, always carefully leaving Jaehyun in Taeyong’s propinquity, grinning wickedly while he did so. Seo Youngho could read the atmosphere too sometimes, at least Jaehyun would give him that.

After a while Jaehyun learned a few more things about Taeyong; he was quite handsy, for one. Youngho called him overly-friendly, Yuta described him as expressive, but Jaehyun thought he just liked physical contacts. Showing affection and all that. Taeyong looked like a guy who wouldn’t think twice before linking his arm with someone, and this speculation of his was proved right, because he almost choked on particularly nothing when it happened for the first time.

He was walking on the hallway, mind full of two hours long of lecture he’d just listened to when something slipped under his arm and pulled his body a little closer against a smaller stature.

“Do you space out a lot when you walk?” Taeyong said, round glasses perched on top of his nose, lips sporting a small smile. Jaehyun wanted death all of the sudden, because _goddamnit, Taeyong looked so fucking hot in glasses_. He wasn’t looking at Jaehyun, but their arms was tightly attached, and Jaehyun’s lungs suddenly and suspiciously ran out of oxygen. Weird, since he was doing fine breathing just a moment ago. “You’ll trip.”

“I’ll trip for real if you always come at me like this,” Jaehyun said matter-of-factly.

Taeyong’s brows knitted together. “Oh? Is this too intimate for basketball star player Jung Jaehyun, Youngho’s treasured dimpled boy?”

“I’m no star player,” Jaehyun said, smiling at the mild compliment. “And I’m not Youngho’s dimpled boy, either. I’m pretty sure he hates me now since I told Taeil he cried over Frozen once.” He wanted to add, am I not _your_ dimpled boy? But he didn’t, because Jaehyun was taught manners by his parents.

Taeyong laughed. “That’s like, his number one well-kept secret. I’m surprised you actually know that.”

“ _You_ know that.”

“I live with him, how could I not know?”

“Yeah, but he cried while he was watching it with _me_.”

“He came home with red eyes, Jaehyun. I thought he got dumped or something. And you’re not answering my question.”

“What question?’ Jaehyun inquired. “Oh. That wasn’t a rhetorical question?”

“Damn you Lit major, you think you can get away from answering any question just because you think it’s rhetorical?”

Jaehyun actually laughed; Taeyong might meant that as something offensive, but to him it was as offensive as a kitten’s paw thudding on a knit sweater.

“I don’t mind,” he finally replied. “Since I space out a lot when I walk, you might slow my fall if I actually trip one day.”

“Or, I’ll probably fall with you and we will both embarrass ourselves.”

“That’s what friends are for.”

Not that he saw Taeyong as just a _friend_ , but the way Taeyong beamed at Jaehyun just then, it made him question if Taeyong was attached to him just like he was attached to Youngho. That was good, too. Jaehyun didn’t use the word _platonic_ much, but this was what it seemed to him: Taeyong, happily clinging to his arms like they had been best friends for years (two and a half week), talking about Doyoung and Yuta and Youngho and Taeil. Jaehyun was really content just having Taeyong there in such a close immediacy to him, but he sometimes wondered if there was another universe in which Taeyong was attached to him in a different way.

If only Jaehyun didn’t see Taeyong everyday, or if he wasn’t as close to Youngho as he was right now, maybe he wouldn’t have to have this seemingly forlorn crush on Taeyong. That was simple logic. If he didn’t see Taeyong much, it was possible that his initial fascination over his beautiful face wouldn’t grow so much until it was eating Jaehyun’s sane mind from the inside. It had now taken roots in every inch of his being, simply because he sat next to Taeyong every day at lunch. His presence there cultivated the feelings Jaehyun had in him to develop into God forbid what, something even worse than what he had now.

But maybe, just _maybe_ , it wasn’t that bad of a feeling.

 

 

“I’m not against you and Taeyong as a thing,” Youngho said, as he tapped wildly on the screen. The both of them were sprawled on the floor in Jaehyun’s room on one sunny Saturday. Jaehyun’s roommate, Mark, was out doing the laundry. “But damn, can you wait? It took me like, three months to even have Taeil look at me in the eye. Think about my reputation if you could bring Taeyong down to his knees in just one.”

“I’m not bringing anyone down to their knees,” Jaehyun said, and he was speaking the truth because Youngho was right; no matter how much he liked Taeyong, it had only been a few weeks (almost a month now), and he really should slow down. If there was anything he’d learned from his past relationships, except for the fact that he tended to fall for assholes, it was that rushing things was a big no-no. Hurried beginning also meant quick endings, so Jaehyun really should think twice where it concerned his feelings for Taeyong. “Not anytime soon, anyway.”

“Then answer this honestly: do you like him?”

Jaehyun would be dead lying if he said he didn’t like Taeyong. Taeyong was incredibly hard to resist; he was convinced that there was not even a single soul out there who loathed Taeyong. Envious of his beauty, maybe, but hating his guts, Jaehyun couldn’t even imagine. Taeyong was as pretty as a summer rose and as delicate as a kitten. Maybe he shouldn’t think of such fuzzy metaphors when Taeyong had put up with Youngho for at least a year, which probably meant there were sides of him Jaehyun didn’t know of, sides that could tone down Youngho’s shenanigans singlehandedly, sides that didn’t exactly tone with summer roses and kittens, but Jaehyun found his mind straying further and further away from Youngho’s actual question when he began thinking about Taeyong. He gave himself a mental slap.

“Yeah, I like him,” Jaehyun admitted, because why would he lie to Youngho? There was literally no point trying to hide anything from the guy. “But I think he’s kinda out of my league. Kinda.”

“Dude.”

“He’s too good for me. I mean. There’s literally so many people out there that I’d rather him be with. Like Hansol, from Arts. Or Yuta. Or even Ten. Also, we’re faring really good now as friends. I don’t want to ruin it.”

“ _Dude_.”

“I’m serious, Youngho.”

Youngho dropped his phone to his lap, groaning loudly, and Jaehyun saw the word DEFEAT blinking over and over on his Battle Cats stage. “Goddamnit, Jung, not only you made me lose on the last Moon stage, you also say the most preposterous things ever. Why are we still friends?”

“How do you spell preposterous, I wonder,” Jaehyun said sarcastically. “Y-O-U-N-G-H-O, maybe? And if it will make you feel any better, you wouldn’t survive CW if we weren’t friends.”

“True. You’re an asshole but at least you don’t lie,” Youngho snorted, as he took his phone and began scrolling through the stages of his game again. “But you’re a fucking idiot if you think Taeyong is out of your league.”

“Are you trying to tell me that he’s not?”

“Well I can’t say, I’m not the one pining on his ass,” Youngho said, eyebrows furrowed together furiously as he tackled yet another Moon stage. “He doesn’t exactly confide in me with his feelings, either, y’know? The only thing serious enough that he’s ever said to me was when I thought I had no chance with Taeil.”

“What’d he say?”

Youngho smiled. He _smiled_ , and not _grinned_ , which grossed Jaehyun out more, because his friend looked so disgustingly in love right there and then, with his eyes dreamy and all. That was not an expression he expected to see on Youngho’s face, ever. “’You’re a fucking idiot if you think Taeil is out of your league’. He also beat me up with his laptop, can you believe that?”

Jaehyun was, in fact, amazed. “But in the end you and Taeil worked out just fine, right?”

“I don’t know. We’re still kissing, so I guess we’re fine,” Youngho said. “But listen, we’re not going to talk about my relationship here, we’re talking about yours.”

Jaehyun’s expression went vacant. “I have literally none.”

“Exactly.”

 

 

Finals week passed by Jaehyun in a slow blur. He dealt with it pretty okay; he didn’t take extra classes like he did last semester, so he was less stressed now. Youngho got a little crankier than usual, but that was just how he was when he got anxious. Jaehyun left this matter to Taeil, who soothed his friend’s mood back to normal whenever Youngho up and went to see him. Jaehyun didn’t know if it was his major or if it was just Taeil himself, but he seemed to have positive effects on Youngho’s mental wellbeing.

(Jaehyun didn’t want to know about his physical wellbeing, though. He still couldn’t quite forget the image of Youngho basically eating Taeil’s face in the library.)

On the last day of finals week, Jaehyun spent his evening in Youngho’s room, the latter suggesting they should have a movie night together with Taeyong. Taking into account as Jaehyun hadn’t seen Taeyong since final week started, Jaehyun agreed readily. They ordered Chinese and marathoned Harry Potter, Taeyong and Jaehyun sitting on the couch while Youngho sat down on the floor, leaning his back on either side of their legs. Jaehyun felt really content that he was so close to two people he liked the most; it had been a while since he had a good time. With Youngho’s back pressing against his knees, and Taeyong leaning his head on Jaehyun’s shoulder in the middle of their second movie (Jaehyun’s heart hadn’t stopped pounding so painfully against his ribcages since), he thought things couldn’t just get better.

Or worse, since Ten called exactly at 10 PM and asked them if they wanted to come to the nearest bar.

“The rest of the gang is here,” Ten said, and Jaehyun heard bickerings and loud giggles somewhere in the background. “Come on, it’ll be fun. Don’t stay cooped up in your room, finals just ended, man.”

“I’m not in my room, I’m with Youngho and Taeyong,” Jaehyun explained, his voice hushed as if he didn’t want the two near to him to hear. Which was impossible, since Taeyong’s head was on his shoulder, his pink strands tickling his neck softly. “Like, we were having such a good time before you called, actually.”

“Rude, but the offer still stands. The more the merrier! Drag them along.”

Jaehyun ended the call and leaned back on the couch with a deep sigh, while Taeyong murmured, “Who was that?”

“Ten,” Jaehyun said, putting his phone back to his bag. “He asked me if I want to go drink a few shots.”

“Oh, we should!” Youngho suddenly leaped up, turning to look at the both of them. His eyebrow raised a little when he saw Taeyong huddled so closely against Jaehyun’s body, but he didn’t mention it, much to Jaehyun’s relief. “And just in time when I need to tune out the stress.”

“What stress?” Jaehyun stared at Youngho. “Finals stress? I mean, sure, you get crabby for a while, but then you go to Taeil and _bam_ , you’re back to normal. That’s not stress.”

“Don’t you try to devalue my emotional load,” Youngho pointed his finger at Jaehyun. “For your own damn information, I was so close to drowning myself in the tub this morning,”

“Youngho, we don’t have a tub.”

“Shut up, Taeyong, we’re going.” Youngho started to make his way toward his bedroom, completely leaving Jaehyun and Taeyong alone on the couch.

“It’s not even Harry’s first Triwizard task yet!” Jaehyun protested, but then he felt a hand on his sleeve, which turned out to be Taeyong’s. Who else was there, really.

“I don’t hate drinking,” Taeyong said, smiling at him. “We can watch this again tomorrow, when _Youngho_ isn’t around to ruin everything—“

“It was Jaehyun who got the call, though,” Youngho shouted from his room.

“Also, someone responsible has to tag along and make sure Youngho comes back home safe,” Taeyong continued as if he was never interrupted.

Jaehyun bit his lower lip. “Please tell me I’m not that responsible someone.”

 

 

That was how Jaehyun ended up on the street, Taeyong walking alongside of him while Youngho was whistling a few steps in front of them. Jaehyun suspected he walked before them so he could give them a little more proximity, which he appreciated, but that meant little now that he’d lost Taeyong’s warmth on his shoulder. It was a pretty hot summer night and Jaehyun didn’t fancy going in a bar that would surely be packed, but Taeyong’s hand soon nested itself under his, linking their arms together as per usual, and he sucked in a breath. He could never get used to this.

“Sorry we ended up dragging you here,” Taeyong said regretfully, squeezing Jaehyun’s arm. “You really wanted to see through Harry’s first task?”

“All three tasks, actually, but it’s no problem.” _Because you’re here_ , Jaehyun added silently. “It’s not like I haven’t watched Goblet of Fire before.”

“Thanks. I’m serious, by the way,” Taeyong said. “Come back tomorrow and we’ll watch the rest of the series. I promise.”

“I have class tomorrow,” Jaehyun said, knowing fully well that tomorrow was Sunday, and his usual Sunday schedule included anything but studying.

“So do I. What’s your point?” Taeyong responded, grinning.

Jaehyun grinned back at him. “Nothing, really. It’s a promise.”

“Am I invited to that promise of a second movie night or am I kicked out for the rest of the semester?” Youngho asked loudly from a few steps in front of them, without looking back. Jaehyun blinked; for a moment there he’d forgotten that they weren’t alone.

“Kicked out,” Jaehyun and Taeyong both chorused at the same time.

“Fine, I’ll have my own movie night with Taeil,” he childishly declared.

“There won’t be any movies watched, I bet,” Jaehyun muttered.

Taeyong chortled, “Oh, totally. No movies, just discarded clothes.”

“Did I hear you guys talk shit?”

The bar was indeed packed, mostly with students from their uni who were celebrating the end of finals week. Still with Taeyong’s hand on his arm, Jaehyun followed Youngho deeper into the small building. He knew Youngho knew Ten from somewhere; he’d seen them talking before, and sometimes Ten would ask how Youngho was doing when they were playing basketball together.

Ten was huddled in a booth, along with Yuta and (to Jaehyun and Taeyong’s utter surprise) Doyoung. As if this wasn’t enough surprise as it was, Taeil, too, was perched on a spot next to Doyoung. Jaehyun could physically feel Youngho’s excitement level rising through the roof even though the guy was way in front of them. Kudos to how long they had been friends, maybe.

“Oh my god,” Taeyong murmured, and he sounded both shocked and amazed. “He really meant the whole gang. I can understand Doyoung, but how the hell did he get _Taeil_ here?”

“I don’t know, bribed him?” Jaehyun muttered back, as bewildered as Taeyong was, but if Ten had indeed bribed Taeil into coming to one of his drinking nights, Jaehyun wasn’t sure he wanted to know what he had bribed Taeil with.

“Taeyong,” Doyoung called, beckoning Taeyong to sit next to him. “You’re really, really late.”

“Sorry, I didn’t know you were here,” Taeyong said, and he left Jaehyun’s side to sit next to Doyoung. Jaehyun dropped himself next to Yuta, who was already red around the ears, but Jaehyun didn’t worry. Yuta had enough alcohol tolerance as he was. It was a trait most sporty kids had, apparently.

“If he knew he would’ve taken longer,” Yuta prompted, grinning at Doyoung, clearly asking for a fight.

Doyoung clacked his tongue and tutted at him. “Shut up, Yuta, you’re drunk.”

“Am not, Doyoung. We haven’t even been here for long,” Yuta said, eyebrows furrowed together. “You look like you’re starting to get tipsy, though.”

“What was that?” Doyoung challenged, and both Yuta and him grabbed their glasses at the same time and emptied them in one single gulp. Taeyong’s eyes met Jaehyun’s, and he smiled knowingly. Jaehyun noticed that Doyoung had deliberately called Yuta by his first name, something which he didn’t usually do. Ten came back with two pitchers of beers, which he put down on the table with a huge grin on the face.

“Drink up, I think I did good on my finals,” he said, sliding down next to Taeil, which was now engaged in a conversation with Youngho. Taeil’s eyes were droopy as usual, but they shined brightly when he looked at Youngho. Jaehyun wondered if his eyes shined like that too when he was looking at Taeyong.

“What do you even do for finals, you’re a Dance major,” Doyoung pointed, his eyes still on Yuta.

Ten sighed. “I don’t just dance, Doyoung, I also study things. Like history. We talked about this.”

Jaehyun helped himself to a glass of beer, because he needed it. The loud music was starting to get to him, and he kept his eyes screwed close as he gulped half of his glass down. The liquid left a trail of fuzziness at the back of his throat, of which Jaehyun realized reminded him of how he would feel when he was around Taeyong. Not important, he dismissed the thought, but his eyes had already searched for Taeyong’s again. He had his hand on Doyoung, thin fingers massaging the back of his friend’s neck as Doyoung continued to spew insults at Yuta. He was half-smiling, as if this was what he dealt with on a daily basis, and Jaehyun didn’t have a hard time believing that it was.

“Dimpled boy, don’t drink too much, you’re our responsible friend tonight,” Taeyong suddenly said, snapping his head up to meet Jaehyun’s gaze.

Youngho chose this time to join their conversation. “Jaehyun can hold his liquor, don’t you worry.”

“Can he, now?” Taeyong said, and he raised a mischiveous eyebrow at Jaehyun. “Want to bet?”

“Taeyong, no,” Ten said, but he was grinning as his eyes shifted from Taeyong, to Jaehyun, and then back to Taeyong again. “Remember what happened last time? When you said your hangover lasted for two days straight?”

“Really? I don’t remember ever saying that,” Taeyong said indifferently, and he waved Ten off with his hand. “Don’t you have anything stronger than beer? We’re not teenagers anymore, for god’s sake.”

Ten sneered. “Do you want me to get you tequila?”

“Please.”

“I am _not_ dragging your drunk ass home tonight,” Youngho reminded Taeyong.

“But Jaehyun’s right here, though?” Taeyong said, a quizzical tone dangling over his sentence as he looked at Jaehyun, eyes wide in hope. Jaehyun was weak on the knees. He was weak _everywhere_. “He’s our responsible friend tonight.”

“Who’s gonna take care of Yuta and Doyoung then?”

“They can take care of themselves, they’re adults,” Taeyong said, and he passed Yuta a glance. Yuta half-nodded, but his eyes still hadn’t left Doyoung. Taeyong shrugged and laughed as Ten gave him a few shots. “Well then, Jaehyun, I believe in you.”

Jaehyun was glad Taeyong had so much faith in him, but he really hoped he hadn’t said that, because Jaehyun didn’t believe in himself one bit.

Things got a lot better, or worse, depending on whose perspective, half an hour after that. Doyoung was face down on the table, humming a muffled Power Rangers theme song. Yuta was sharing an obscene joke with Ten, which apparently according to Ten’s intoxicated sense couldn’t be funnier because he couldn’t decide whether to cry or laugh, so he was doing both. Youngho was nowhere to be seen along with Taeil. Jaehyun ever so hoped they were in the bathroom making out and not kidnapped by a serial killer or some shit. But Taeyong, God bless Jaehyun, was deadass drunk and Jaehyun had never wanted to cry so bad for all his life. Coming here was definitely a bad idea.

“So,” Taeyong began, and Jaehyun was entirely sure he was talking to him, because neither Yuta nor Ten showed any signs that they heard him talk. “Jung Jaehyun.”

“That’s me,” Jaehyun said nervously.

“There’s no one else,” Taeyong said, looking somewhat displeased. He leaned forward and rested his chin on his hand, eyes never leaving Jaehyun’s face even once. “Let’s do this. There’s a few things I need to know.”

Jaehyun held back his breath. “Is that so?”

“Question one. Do you think I’m pretty?”

Holy fuck, Jaehyun wanted to die. He wanted to crawl underneath the table and never show his face on the surface of earth again, which didn’t make sense, because all Taeyong did was just ask him if _he_ thought he was pretty. This was the world’s easiest question, and there was really no other answer, but the word was just so intractably stuck on the tip of Jaehyun’s tongue, not wanting to roll out of his mouth.

Taeyong tilted his head, perfect jawline on display. “ _Well_ , Jung?”

“Yes,” Jaehyun blurted, because he could never lie, not this time. Taeyong was drunk, and he probably wouldn’t remember this by the morning, anyway. “Yes, I think you’re really pretty. The prettiest man I’ve ever seen.”

“Shit, you’re cheesy cheap,” Taeyong said, covering his mouth as if shocked, but not before Jaehyun had seen him grinning so widely, like Jaehyun’s words meant the world to him. “Question two, do you like me?”

If Jaehyun wanted to die before, now he wanted someone to deliberately kill him and make it as painful as possible. Could that serial killer he thought of before come in and take him away now? Taeyong’s face was colored with pure curiousity, eyelids heavy and lips parted, eyebrows slightly upstretched. Those dark eyes of his seemed like they could pierce holes through his face, because Taeyong wouldn’t _stop_ staring, and it was sending hot shivers down Jaehyun’s spine and making his knees shake.

“Yeah, I like you,” Jaehyun said, rubbing circles on his temple as he looked down on his own empty glass of beer. “I like you so much, but we’re friends, so that’s kinda difficult, right?”

“Is it?” Taeyong asked, and much to Jaehyun’s surprise, his tone was soft. Gentle. “Is it difficult, Jaehyun? Are you sure it’s not because you’re overthinking things?”

“What?”

“Nevermind that. Off to question three. Well… this isn’t exactly a question,” Taeyong said, voice trailing off into a stop as he pulled his hand off his face. “So you like me, right?”

“Right,” Jaehyun said, weary, wondering when would this end.

“Then kiss me.”

“I’m sorry?” Jaehyun didn’t have hearing problems but suddenly he wished he had.

“I didn’t stutter, Jung. Unless you don’t like me as I like you. If that’s the case, then the door’s right fucking there, yeah? Can you see it?”

Jaehyun’s mind went straight blank. He could see Taeyong, smirking, his eyes gleaming in such ways that Jaehyun was sure the stars would be envy of. Mouth dry, throat parched, and head dizzy, Jaehyun leaned forward, body moving on autopilot, to kiss Taeyong on the lips. Taeyong’s hands welcomed him eagerly by cupping his face, holding him in place, dull nails grazing over his cheeks lovingly as if this was something he’d very much wanted since he ever saw Jaehyun.

Jaehyun wondered if this was.

He could hear Yuta groaning in the background, “Ugh, guys, can we not?” But his voice was strangely drowned out, or maybe it was just Jaehyun who couldn’t hear him properly, because his mind was too fixated on the taste of Taeyong’s lips, damp and soft and perfectly shaped against his own. He’d dreamed about this more than he would like to admit, and now that it happened in actuality, it was even better. Way better than what he could’ve had imagined. Way better than anything else. His chest felt like it was walling thousands of exploding fireworks, filling his gut with warm fuzziness he’d long associated with Taeyong’s soothing presence.

 _Ridiculous_ , Jaehyun’s voice of reason thought, somewhere on the back of his mind. This wasn’t some kind of romance manga. He shouldn’t be this happy; it was just a kiss. A damn kiss he’d waited ages for, yeah, but still.

Taeyong pulled away first, and Jaehyun noted that he was smiling ear to ear. Why did he look so happy? It was just a kiss. But Jaehyun probably looked the same, so he decided he shouldn’t think about it too much.

Yuta’s hand was on his chest as soon as Taeyong’s lips left his, holding him back in case Jaehyun would kiss Taeyong again. “Jesus, could you guys at least _wait_ until you’re home before you decided to do that?”

“What’s wrong with kissing in a bar?” Taeyong asked Yuta. “Youngho and Taeil were making out in the fucking library, cut me some slack.”

“Yeah, but Youngho is Youngho, he’s never been right in the head,” Yuta said, shaking his head in disbelief as if kissing in a public was a sin. He jabbed his finger on Doyoung’s unconscious head. “You were supposed to be, I don’t know, more appropriate? I didn’t even get to kiss this asshole yet, and I’m pretty sure I’ve been pining on him longer than Jaehyun having a crush on your ungrateful ass. You’re all unfair.”

Taeyong muttered a winning, “First come first served,” while Jaehyun blinked at Yuta. “I don’t remember telling you anything about my feelings for Taeyong. Was it Youngho?”

Yuta threw him a dirty look. “Nobody had to tell me. It was damn obvious.”

 

 

Youngho was nowhere to be found, and Taeyong was dangerously close to falling asleep on the table like Doyoung, so Jaehyun decided to take matters into his own hands. With Taeyong’s arm slung around his neck and his hand on the older’s waist, he dragged him to the dorm in a series of painful (but very treasured) steps. Taeyong was fairly light, and it wasn’t too much trouble (Jaehyun remembered when he had to drag a drunk Youngho home once. He’d much rather have Taeyong, thank you).

Taeyong laughed when Jaehyun almost tripped on the stairs. “Space out and you’ll trip,” he chided lightly, seemingly out of nowhere, but Jaehyun remembered that they’d had this conversation before.

“Weren’t you supposed to slow my fall?” he asked Taeyong.

“I told you I’ll fall with you,” Taeyong said. “And we’ll both embarrass ourselves.”

“You have good memories.”

“I have good eyes, too. You’re very handsome,” Taeyong said, a hot hand landing on Jaehyun’s cheek. Jaehyun couldn’t see his eyes – it was too dark – but he could hear the delight in his voice. “It’s what I thought when Youngho first brought you to our room. You’re really fucking handsome, Jung Jaehyun, and you weren’t the only one ogling.”

Jaehyun didn’t usually blush, but he was grateful that it was dark, because he wouldn’t want Taeyong to see how hot his face had become.

He swore he wasn’t trying to take advantage of Taeyong. It was him who claimed to have ‘lost his keys’ when they stood in front of his room, and Jaehyun had no choice but to take Taeyong to his room, because where else would he leave him? The corridor? The RA would kill him in the morning.

Jaehyun praised all the gods he knew the existence of when Mark opened the door to their room after Jaehyun knocked just once. The boy’s eyes were thick with drowsiness, skinny body already clothed in pyjamas. However, those droopy eyes soon widened when he saw Jaehyun with Taeyong draped all over him. “Hyung?”

“Sorry, Mark, but he’s sleeping over,” Jaehyun said, pulling Taeyong in as Mark stepped aside. He smiled at the younger boy, who was still looking at them in a daze. “Can you help me tidy my bed? Taeyong can use it for the night. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“What was that?” Taeyong drawled out. “Why can’t we share?”

“The bed’s small, Taeyong, and as much as I would like to share with you, Mark’s still a minor. He sleeps in the same room as I do.”

Mark scoffed. “Please, I’m eighteen.”

“Shut up, Mark, you’re five to me. Do what I said.”

Mark hurried into their bedroom while Jaehyun helped Taeyong took off his jacket and shoes. Taeyong was disappointed that he wouldn’t be spending the night cuddling with Jaehyun. (“I’ve wanted to do that for at least a month now. Youngho is all skin and bones,” Taeyong wailed, all pouted lips which was so overwhelmingly cute, Jaehyun almost fainted. He was even willing to let go of the fact that Taeyong cuddled with Youngho too at some point. God, wasn’t he handsy.) A few minutes later, Mark opened the bedroom door and declared he had done what he could and cleaned Jaehyun’s things off his bed.

Jaehyun was glad he didn’t have to persuade Taeyong further into letting the matter off for the night, because he’d fallen asleep the moment Jaehyun put him on the mattress. Mark peeked over his shoulder as Jaehyun covered him with the blanket and whispered, “Isn’t this that guy who lives with Youngho hyung on the second floor? Taeyong, or something?”

Jaehyun smiled, patting Taeyong’s arm gently to make sure he was really asleep. There was a lot of things that he wanted to say to Mark, possibly, _yup, this is the guy I’ve been harboring an ugly crush on all this time_ , but he didn’t. He kept his mouth shut, not wanting to let the taste of Taeyong’s lips fade just enough. Instead, he said, “Yeah, do you know him?”

Mark shook his head. “Nah, my friend does. But why’s he drunk, hyung? And why’s he here?”

Jaehyun heaved a heavy sigh. “It’s a long story, Mark. You should go back to bed now, come on.” Jaehyun turned and ushered Mark to his own bed, ignoring Mark’s soft complaints. The boy was easy to handle, and as soon as Jaehyun tucked him in, he was quiet. Jaehyun left the door slightly open before he headed to the couch and dropped his own body on it, groaning loudly.

He thought it was going to be a long night, especially when he had so much things to mull over, but Jaehyun fell asleep quite easily. That night, he dreamt of warm hands against his cheeks, a soft voice telling him that he wasn’t the only one ogling.

 

 

When Jaehyun opened his eyes, Mark looked up from the mug of tea he was drinking.

“You were smiling in your sleep. That’s fucking creepy.”

“Language,” Jaehyun managed to croak out, but when he was about to wake, something slid off him, and he caught it by reflex. It was Taeyong’s jacket. Jaehyun was pretty sure it wasn’t on him the night before. “Where’s Taeyong? Is he still asleep?”

Mark’s expression changed. “Uh…”

There was an unsettling sensation in the pit of Jaehyun’s stomach upon seing the expression on his roommate’s face. “What’s up?”

“Well, he actually left. Like two hours ago? I’m not sure. He told me not to wake you up!” Mark added, voice raising when Jaehyun leaped from the couch and immediately went to their bedroom to check. Indeed, his bed was neatly made (so was Mark’s), which had never happened even once before. Jaehyun scrambled around to check if Taeyong had left any notes, but he found nothing.

“Did he look like he’s hungover or something?” Jaehyun asked Mark, while he put on his own jacket and started wearing his socks. Mark stood behind him, obviously worried after seeing Jaehyun’s reaction, tea long forgotten.

“I don’t think so. He looked pretty sober,” he said carefully. “Are you going to look for him?”

“Yeah, well, a lot of things happened last night,” Jaehyun said, slowing down while tying his shoelaces as his voice of reason stirred awake. Why was he so worked up over Taeyong’s leaving? Did he expect the guy to stay until Jaehyun wake up or something? He probably had plans or something like that – it was 10 AM on a Sunday. “Stay home, okay? Invite a friend over or something.”

“I was planning to. He’s going to come over later in the afternoon, do you mind buying drinks on your way back?”

“Sure, I’ll buy lots,” Jaehyun agreed without thinking, and he left before Mark could muster a reply. The door slammed to a close as Jaehyun headed toward Youngho’s room a floor below. He rapped his knuckles against the door until they hurt, but it was full five minutes before the door opened, and it wasn’t even Youngho or Taeyong who did it. Taeil peered over the door, his hair damp from the shower, smelling exactly like Youngho.

“Jaehyun,” Taeil said, lips pressed into a soft smile. He always smiled like that when he saw Jaehyun. “Are you looking for Youngho?”

“No,” Jaehyun said. “Is he okay, though? Where were you guys?”

“Well, he’s asleep,” Taeil replied, and Jaehyun noticed that Taeil ever so carefully didn’t answer his question regarding their whereabouts the night before. Smart move. “Are you looking for Taeyong, then? He’s not here.”

“What?”

“Yuta told me you brought him home last night. He’s not with you?”

“No. Yes. Actually, well, he kinda ran away this morning. Do you have any idea where he might’ve gone?” Jaehyun didn’t know why his tone went all stiff and polite whenever he was speaking with Taeil. It wasn’t as if he was his parent or anything, but Jaehyun’s mind somehow registered him as if he was.

Taeil hummed in ponder. “Sorry, I don’t know him well enough to guess. But last night he seemed drunk, so he couldn’t have wandered far, couldn’t he?”

Jaehyun left after Taeil suggested him to check downstairs. He had to compliment Taeil on his sharp instincts later, because he bumped against the one he had been looking for on the stairs: Taeyong, with the color of silky purple underneath his eyes, caught Jaehyun by the arm so they wouldn’t tumble downstairs and needlessly acquire any injuries. Jaehyun’s mouth fell open, he didn’t actually expect to find Taeyong this soon, but the pink-haired boy smiled sweetly at him that he forgot what he was just about to say.

“Hey there,” Taeyong said, as he pulled his hand off Jaehyun’s arm. “Thank you for letting me crash at your place. You have a cute roommate. Is he your brother?”

Jaehyun was about to say whatever it was that he wanted to say, but then he noticed that Taeyong didn’t look the slightest bit of drained, or sick, or anything like that, even though he was supposed to. He looked… fine. He didn’t show any signs that he had been so dead intoxicated just a few hours prior. That was definitely off, since he was so drunk last night, barely walking and uttering things he wouldn’t usually say. _Unless_ , Jaehyun thought, but that wouldn’t be possible, because why would Taeyong pretend to be drunk?

“You look fine,” Jaehyun commented. He couldn’t hold back the tone of accusation in his voice. “And here I thought you were vomiting blood or something.”

Taeyong’s brows creased together adorably, just like how they always did whenever Youngho pulled some crazy shit or Jaehyun said something he didn’t expect. “Alcohol doesn’t make people vomit blood, Jaehyun.”

“I was exaggerating. My point is, why aren’t you having a hangover? Youngho was still knocked out cold in his room!”

“I don’t get it. Do you want me to have a hangover or what?” Taeyong asked. “You look riled up. What’s wrong?”

“Well,” Jaehyun said. He rubbed the back of his neck and took a step back. The unsettling worry inside of him had grown even more now that Taeyong was in sight. He was forced to face the after-effects of the events that had unfolded so smoothly last night. At least it _seemed_ smooth last night. Jaehyun didn’t know how to handle this now. He’d never been coerced (albeit willingly) to confess in a bar at wee hours in the morning by his crush. “Well, for now I’m just glad you’re okay.”

Taeyong snorted. “Listen, I’m no Psychology major but that can’t be the only thing you want to say to me right now. Come on, let’s go get some air.”

Taeyong pushed him gently toward the stairs, and the both of them climbed up to the fourth floor, where the building only had a couple of vacant rooms. The rest of the floor was an outdoor garden, or at least it was _supposed_ to be, because there was really only a line of jars with small plants that looked sad inside, yellow and dying, perched on the corner. Taeyong sauntered to the girded edges of the roof, leaning his back on the fence, and smiled at Jaehyun.

“Now tell me what’s on your mind,” he said, crossing his arms, waiting.

Jaehyun was at loss of words, because in such a short time Taeyong had managed to snatch all of his reason away, again. There was a distance of a few steps between them, Jaehyun eager to close it, but he still had a few doubts in what was left of his mind.

“Do you remember what happened last night?” Jaehyun asked warily.

“What would you do if I say I don’t?” Taeyong asked, calm, but his smile was playful, and Jaehyun’s heart felt like it just took a very high leap and now was stuck on his throat.

“You remember, right?” Jaehyun said, almost pleading.

“Do you know people tend to forget the drunken shit they do when they wake up the morning after?” Taeyong asked rather seriously, and Jaehyun’s eyes dropped to the ground. “But really, Jaehyun, it’s pretty hard to forget how you looked last night when I told you that I liked you.”

Jaehyun winced. “Shit, I must’ve looked like a great damn fool.”

Taeyong laughed. “Believe me, you did. But you were so cute, so everything’s alright now.”

“Were you _really_ drunk?” Jaehyun asked, suspicious. “I mean, I wasn’t as wary last night… Ten said your latest hangover lasted for two days straight, and here you are looking like an angel.”

Taeyong snorted. “An angel, huh? Cheesy.”

“My question just now wasn’t rhetorical.”

Taeyong laughed out loud, putting his hands up in defeat. “Well, to tell you to truth, maybe I was only half-drunk. I didn’t drink as much as I used to,” he admitted. “And did you forget that Ten has a tendency to exaggerate sometimes?”

Jaehyun sighed in disbelief. “You got me good. And here I thought all of that drunken flirtings would be forgotten in the morning. Turns out you weren’t even drunk in the first place.”

“I _was_ kinda high on the alcohol, still. But that doesn’t matter now, anyway, doesn’t it? That drunken flirtings aren’t forgotten, I still like you and you still like me, I hope.”

“Why did you leave this morning, though?” Jaehyun said, and he couldn’t help but to pout. “You could’ve woken me up first at least.”

“ _That’s_ what you’re mad about?” Taeyong asked him, scratching his neck in disbelief, while Jaehyun mumbled a weak ‘I’m not mad’. “Oh, Jaehyun, you’re more of a kid than I thought. I left because I had a shitton of missed calls from Dongyoung. He skipped a few classes yesterday and now he panicked because there’s an essay due tomorrow. I think. So I went and lent him some of my notes.”

“Doyoung? _Skipped a few classes_?”

Taeyong winked, and good lord, if that wasn’t the shrewdest wink Jaehyun had ever gotten from any man ever. “You can probably ask Yuta as to why. They fucking ditched me, I hate them.”

Jaehyun shuddered. “I’m not sure I want to know.”

“So are we done with this conversation here?” Taeyong asked, finally uncrossing his arms. “Still can’t believe you looked so pissed just because I left without waking you up. Would you come here and give me a proper kiss now?”

“Last night wasn’t proper enough for you?” Jaehyun asked, but he still crossed the distance between them in one long stride and slid his hands around Taeyong’s slender waist, fingers nesting on the crook of his hips. He didn’t know for how long he’d wanted this, and now that he was finally able to do it, his digits felt like they had found the place where they belonged.

Taeyong’s hand skimmed over to touch Jaehyun’s cheek, warm and familiar and very much appreciated. “Come on now,” Taeyong murmured, voice gentle, almost a purr, “I was _drunk_ last night, wasn’t I?”

Jaehyun snorted, but when he leaned in to finally kiss Taeyong, _sober_ , the smile on Taeyong’s lips was mirrorred on his own.

 

 

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner, though?” Taeyong asked one day, as he laid his head on Jaehyun’s stomach and scrolled down his Instagram feeds. Jaehyun was already lying there for awhile now, drowsy from the book he was reading (not Shakespeare). Taeyong came over fifteen minutes ago after he texted him that Mark wasn’t around.

“Tell you what?” Jaehyun asked sleepily.

There was a long pause, as if Taeyong was picking his words carefully. Or maybe he was too immersed in his Instagram scrolling, Jaehyun didn’t know.

“That you like me, too. Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I’m pretty sure Youngho told you that I’m single, and I basically gave you green lights all the time.” He paused again, wincing. “Well, you didn’t exactly make any advances, so of course those green lights would just bounce right off your oblivious ass.”

Jaehyun chuckled. “Sorry. I was actually having a dilemma. I just knew you for a few weeks and I was already obsessing over you. And there was that thing you said when we first met…”

“What did I say?” Taeyong asked, his eyebrows furrowing in that lovely way that Jaehyun was very fond of.

“You said you’re used to being ogled at, or something.”

Taeyong stopped scrolling. “What’s wrong with that?”

Jaehyun pondered over his own thoughts, wondering how should he express them. “I thought you might be tired of people who are only attracted to you because of your looks?” he offered, hand insentiently resting on the top of Taeyong’s head, playing with his hair. “And we were such good friends, too. I thought at least I’d wait for a few months before I take the risk of fucking that up.”

Taeyong sighed loudly. “Jesus Christ, I’m so glad Ten called you to the bar that night, or else we would still be stuck on wherever we were before then. Pining on each other and stuff.”

“Yeah, I’m also glad you _pretended_ to be drunk just to get me to kiss you. Kinda seems like you underestimated my whole Catch-22, doesn’t it?”

Taeyong laughed and hit Jaehyun’s thigh with the back of his hand. “When will you ever let me live that down,” he said, and Jaehyun grinned, grabbing Taeyong’s hand in his.

“Never.”

Taeyong held himself up and leaned to kiss him; it was something he’d do whenever Jaehyun was being a prick. Jaehyun let him press more into the kiss, just a little harder, mouth keen but still controlled. Jaehyun’s hand cupped the back of Taeyong’s neck, pulling him closer, and he was just about to nibble on the older’s lower lip, but at that time the door to Jaehyun’s room banged open and there was a loud shriek – _two_ loud shrieks.

“Holy shit!” Mark exclaimed, and Jaehyun saw for a split second as his hand flew to cover the eyes of the smaller boy standing behind him. “Holy shit, what the hell are you guys doing?”

Taeyong pulled away so fast he almost tumbled backward, if not for Jaehyun’s leg propping up to hold his back. His cheeks were tinted with a dust of lovely red, mouth split in surprise, but Jaehyun had no time to indulge in that, because Mark was staring them down with a severe look of shocked disdain on his face.

“We were, uh,” Jaehyun said, didn’t know why he sounded nervous when it was just _Mark_ , who he had lived with for the last six months, “Kissing.”

That was the truth, but Mark just looked even more horrified (and embarrassed) than before.

“Are they naked or do they have their clothes on?” yelled the copper-haired boy behind Mark, the taller’s hand still covering his eyes. “Because if they’re naked, I swear to god, Mark Lee—“

“At least lock the goddamn door,” Mark said, shaking his head as he pushed the boy behind him back and slammed the door closed again. They could hear him talking, “Seems like we have to crash Jeno’s date again, Hyuck.” There was a mumbled response, a mild protest, and scurried steps of small feet.

Taeyong broke into a nervous laugh. “What was that?”

“Mark,” Jaehyun said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “And probably his new friend. Why’re you so flustered? We were just kissing.”

Taeyong sank back to the floor, hugging his knees to his chest as if Mark’s arrival earlier had lowered his defenses (it had) and now he was vulnerable. Jaehyun wanted to wrap his arms around Taeyong and held him close, but he didn’t want anyone else walking in on them. Not that it would bother him; he was more worried for the intruder’s mental welfare.

“What’s that look for,” Taeyong inquired, as the red faded from his face and Jaehyun smiled at him.

“No, well,” Jaehyun said. “I think I now know how Youngho felt when I walked in on him kissing Taeil in the library.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! If you’ve made it this far, thank you for reading!
> 
> 1\. I've been stanning NCT for awhile now, but only recently I started writing for them. I like writing, but I’m not rly used to writing for a fandom (esp. kpop) so I'm sorry if I made shaky characterizations or if they don’t seem like themselves too much here. There’s also something resembling a plot here but I personally don’t value it, I've never been brilliantly creative in making plots like some other writers here that I really look up to! I hope this will make do for now, and with time hopefully I'll grow better with my writing and plot-making ;;
> 
> 2\. I love the boys so much and I like every pairing honestly, but my /current/ top favorites are Jaeyong and Markhyuck for obvious reasons (their dynamics are visibly popular that it's hard not to love them) and also Nomin (but Jaemin ;;__;;;)! Lately Dota and Johnil have been growing onto me, so I guess that’s why they’re here now. As you know, Jaeyong is the main pair for this fic, while Johnil and Dota are side pairings for now. Markhyuck is only very very very slightly implied, or if not at all, they're for other time I guess. I hope I can gain enough motivation to write for them soon, or else this series is doomed. It’s still doomed from the very start, though.
> 
> If a miracle happens and you somehow ended up liking this disaster™, please leave kudos and/or comments if you’d like. I’m really just a vulnerable being in constant need of human interactions \o/


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